Fake Wings
by Byakko Ta
Summary: When I saw you, I knew we were one and the same...Descendants of Darkness, we are...Sins of existence...We who were born of Darkness must walk in Darkness...Always...


Fake Wings

**A/n:**

_Well, I guess you guys will like this, if you've read Descendants of Darkness... Anyways, this is sort of a Muraki character sketch, maybe... I guess that's what you call them... Well, I am not exactly positive of the information in here, and a lot has come from volume 8! I realize that a few of my written works lean heavily on artistic license and my thoughts, ideas, and wishes for the drabbles... I don't have all the information I need to write these, yet here I am writing them...  
_

_Well, I guess you guys can continue reading now... I hope you enjoy it and I didn't do too bad... I've kinda been in a angsty mood lately..._

**Warnings: **

_Well, where would my stories be without a warning or too, eh? Well, there is angst, obviously, and really nothing else there... perhaps very slight child abuse (you'll understand when you read), but its not really bad, just some negligence. There may be some things suggested... I say maybe because I haven't written them yet! I guess you could say its light yaoi... _

_Surprisingly, there is no cursing! Amazing!_

Rated: PG-13, just to be safe.. I thing its PG tho...

**Disclaimer:**

_Well, obviously Descendants of Darkness does not belong to me, but Yoko Matsushita. Also, a lot of these inserts are from volume 8 (the top things in italics, and then a scene or two). I don't own anything... The title isn't even mine! Its 'Fake Wings,' the song on the .HackSIGN/ soundtrack... _****

I realize that the first part is confusing and jumbled up pretty badly (its actually meant to be that way)... Yet I can't seem to ever put to words what I'm trying to express in my stories, can I? .blush  


_  
...Delicate as a China doll..._

_  
...Would you..._

_  
...Prize... _

_  
...Shed a tear...  
_

_...Darkness...  
_

_...Even if you didn't mean it...  
_

_...Of my collection...  
_

_...Dreams won't trouble you...  
_

_...A sacrifice is necessary...  
_

_...Artificial life...  
_

_...You...  
_

_...And I...  
_

_...Never meant...  
_

_...Forgive...  
_

_...To exist...  
_

_...No escape...  
_

_...Me...  
_

_...Failed experiment...  
_

_...Your sorrow...  
_

_...The ultimate punishment...  
_

_...Broken wind-up doll...  
_

_...Without a soul...  
_

No matter what I said, my silver hair, pale white skin, and silver eyes would always make people comment about them. I was my father's humiliation with my fragile features, but my Mother's prize. Then Saki came. He became my father's secret shame upon our family honor. I was a doll my Mother did whatever she wished to. She dressed me up and paraded me around during our social outings.  
I this took to heart and I began collecting dolls myself, to have equal company, since my parents and "step-brother" considered me nothing more than a doll...

You think my deceptions are what make me fake. You think I am just a killer with false reasons for what I do...

But you...

You need to look into a mirror...

And look into your own purple eyes...

And tell me...

What do you see?

I hug Veronica close to me as I perch carefully on the chair as my Mother and her friends chatter above my head. I have on navy-blue shorts and a white long-sleeved dress-shirt with a sleeveless navy-blue over-shirt on. My school uniform; when Mother let's me go to school, that is. I also have the tie on and my grey dress-shoes. The other women all cast admiring looks towards me as I silently sit there, just hugging Veronica to me. I'm silently having a conversation to her, since no one is listening or talking to me. I leave my tea untouched on the table in its saucer.

_Red is much better on you, Veronica... Better than the green. Maybe you should have a bonnet to go with the skirts? I may actually try you in violet, I've always loved that color, you know...  
_

My one-sided conversation was interrupted when Mother turned to me, a self-satisfied smile on her face.

"Kazutaka." She paused, waiting smugly for my answer.

"Yes, Mother?" I speak obediently, already having been drilled to only speak when she asked a question, never before nor after, unless she asked another question.

"Kazutaka, I want you to bring out your violin. My friends wish to hear you play a piece." She said smugly as I obediently left the table for a few moments to retrieve my case at the restaurant entrance hall, despite not being yet nine years old I was allowed to wander freely as I would obey her anyways...

We are in Mother's doll room, where every one of her dolls sits on a shelf.

"Come to me, Kazutaka..." Mother calls softly, and like every time before, I obey. I look up to her face and she seems to have a wild expression on her face, but she smiles down at me, in her patronizing way. Her smile is a little frozen, though. As I kneel in front of her, she grasps my face pseudo-kindly, kneeling herself to bring our gazes closer together...

"Good boy... You're so adorable." She grins down at me, and it is almost frightening. I wish for Veronica, to hold for reassurance, but I have not seen her this morning. We have just come back from the cemetery. Father is dead, but Saki was not there. He had decided to stay home instead. Mother did not force him to come...

"Mother... Where's Veronica?" I ask her softly, knowing I shouldn't have asked a question-- she hadn't asked me a question yet-- but I really wanted Veronica right now. Despite me having a few other dolls, and not counting mother's vast collection, I only wished for Veronica right now.

Mother raised her left hand to my face, keeping her right hand holding my head up to her gaze. She was looking at me as if I wasn't truly there. She was gazing at my features almost clinically.

"Your silver hair... like moonlight on the frost... Your eyes... like moonlit pools..." mother whispered, almost to herself. I stared at her, my eyes wide, but I was only confused... "And your skin, white and delicate as a China doll. Ah..." She grinned savagely at me suddenly, her grip on my chin and head tight and painful.

"Where's Veronica, Nutcracker? Where did you put her, Mother?" I ask fearfully. It can't be... I whisper to myself, but despite my denying it, feared I already knew the answer to my question. "You didn't... throw Veronica away, did you?" I ask fearfully, my voice catching at the word throw. She didn't seem to hear me, as she lifted me bodily and brought me closer to her shelves. At a bottom shelf, lined in a straight row are other China dolls, all in different styles and country's designs of skirts, bonnets, and frills. A slightly larger space than a usual doll would sit is left open. As far back as I can remember it has been empty. She silently sets me down there and callously grinned while insanity flashed in her eyes.

"You're the prize of my collection..." She said to me and I stared up at her in horror. "You're the prize of my collection... Kazutaka..."

What about you, my broken dearest love. You understand that to gain, we must have sacrifice... don't you Asato?

When I saw you, I knew we were one and the same...

Descendants of Darkness, we are...

Sins of existence...

We who were born of Darkness must walk in Darkness...

Always...

Our fates are sealed.. We are forever meant to bring suffering wherever we go.

No matter how far you run from the truth...

No matter how much you make yourself forget...

We are Descendants of Darkness. Failed experiments... Broken wind-up dolls... Where could such creatures ever find rest?

We are not meant to find peace, to be saved... We are meant to cause torment with our very beings...

To suffer torment in our very cores... We do not deserve eternal sleep...

You cannot hide the truth...

You say I am fake in my murderous ways, trying to hide something... but it is you who are fake. Not real.. Forged. An imitation of an Angel... You say my actions are vile and hideous... But it is you, my beautifully, broken love, that is vile. Those wings you carry on your shoulders... That chip on your shoulder of your crimes...

Those wings you carry on your shoulders are fake and brittle...

An artificial being has no right to talk down my doings, when your fake wings just hide the truth from you and everyone around you...

You are a liar to yourself and others... And what gives you away...

Are...

Your...

Fake...

Wings...

End...  
AFTER A/n: Well, how'd I do? I hope its not terrible... This is my first drabble (or anything story-related) with Descendants of Darkness... I hope I didn't kill anyone in the audience reading this... That didn't come out right... sigh I guess I can't do anything about that can I? Oye... Well, I hope you enjoyed that...

Thanks for reading this!


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